


Fckpile

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bondage, Ficlet, Gags, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 23:47:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16148099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Ignis was bad, but Prompto’s surprisingly good.





	Fckpile

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Even as he’s kicking off his shoes in the hallway, he can smell the pungent scent from the bedroom: an overwhelming cloud of omega _want_ , practically vibrating at its peak, and Noctis almost feels bad for how long he was gone. As he strolls through his apartment, he picks up on Ignis’ muffled moans and sobs. Noctis knew it was cruel to leave him. But that’s the point of punishment, and Noctis is a _prince_ : he can’t just let his omegas come before they’re told without some form of reprimand.

Feeling just a little guilty, Noctis reaches the bedroom door, then pauses—because didn’t he leave it shut? But it’s half open, and now that he’s on the threshold, he can smell something other than Ignis’ tortured lust laced through the stench of sex.

Suddenly quiet and careful of the door, Noctis slips past it, making no sound as he emerges in his bedroom. Ignis is right where Noctis left him—knelt atop Noctis’ bed, near the side, his ankles bound to his spread thighs and his arms bound fast behind him. His pretty mouth is stretched open around a ball-gag, his glasses still on but looking somewhat fogged. A silver chain attaches the black collar at his throat to the bedpost. He’s directly facing Noctis, dilated eyes going wide. Noctis can see how wet they are: Ignis’ delicate skin is flushed a blotchy red, his chest heaving, and his muscles are trembling in desperation. He wasn’t crying when Noctis left him, but it’s easy to see what’s changed.

Noctis’ newer omega is on the floor, knelt between Ignis’ legs, clearly bobbing on and off of Ignis’ cock with loving vigor. Noctis had no idea that Prompto planned a visit tonight. If he had, he would’ve ordered Prompto to wait in the living room and leave poor Ignis alone. 

Despite Ignis’ wrecked condition, Noctis doesn’t entirely regret what’s happened. If possible, Prompto looks equally as scrumptious, down on his knees with his ass thrust into the air, slightly swaying, as though it wants to be impaled as much as Prompto’s mouth. Instead of the usual skinny jeans and tee, Prompto’s wearing the skimpiest pair of booty shorts Noctis has ever seen—the thin strip of fabric between his legs doesn’t even conceal the white elastic of his briefs. When he arches his back just right, ass sticking further out and angling up, Noctis can even see his pink sac caught there, clearly unable to be properly covered up. Noctis can’t imagine his cock’s fairing any better. Higher up, he has an equally skimpy black crop-top stretched across his back—Noctis thinks a light breeze would be enough to flash a peek at his rosy nipples. 

For a long moment, Noctis just stands there, knowing Ignis sees him and Prompto doesn’t—Ignis’ laboured groans around his gag go unanswered. With Prompto’s back to him, Noctis can’t see when Prompto pulls off Ignis’ cock, but he can hear the wet pop, and he relishes Prompto’s wanton moan. “You taste so _good_ , Iggy... I missed your dick...” His head shifts—Noctis thinks he’s nuzzling into Ignis’ base, and Ignis throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut. Noctis knows he’s using every ounce of willpower he has to keep from painting Prompto’s freckled face with cum. It’s impressive he’s managed thus far. Noctis can’t help but feel proud of him. 

It would still be nicer to end Ignis’ torment, but Noctis still stalls to take in the view. He told his omegas they were free to play with one another the first time he realized what was clouding Ignis’ eyes when he looked at Prompto. It was hard to miss when Prompto’s photographs started featuring Ignis as much as Noctis. And it was certainly worth the initial spark of jealousy to watch them sweetly croon and nuzzle at one another after Noctis first fucked them side-by-side. He’s seen them cuddle since, like any two omegas in the affectionate afterglow of heat or sex, but this is the first time he’s really seen them _play_. Of course he knew it had to be happening occasionally. He gave them his permission. But it’s still wildly exciting to finally _see_ them, pleasuring each other completely on their own. Or at least, one of them is doing that. 

Ignis remains helpless, and when his head falls back into place, eyes opening to pierce through Noctis, he makes a pleading noise around his gag that tugs at Noctis’ heart. On the whole, he doesn’t think he’s a particularly cruel alpha. If he was, he would never have let his little harem take their pleasure without him. Now he can tell that Ignis _needs_ him, and obviously Prompto came over to please Noctis—that outfit couldn’t be for anything else.

Just as Prompto pops back on, sucking loudly around Ignis’ girth, Noctis casually drawls, “You’re still not allowed to come, Specs.”

Instantly, Prompto makes a choking noise. He pulls off, spluttering, and looks over his shoulder, blue eyes wide and cheeks flushing red. Noctis gives him a welcoming smirk that makes Prompto laugh nervously, “H-hey, buddy...”

“You just can’t help yourself, can you,” Noctis teases. Prompto hunches his shoulders, looking suitably abashed. 

He leans back onto his haunches, mumbling, “Sorry.”

In truth, Noctis is glad he’s like that: Prompto’s natural exuberance is a lovely counterbalance to his own tiredness and Ignis’ prim restraint. Noctis strolls over to drop a hand into Prompto’s hair, petting him to show that his alpha isn’t really mad. Ignis flexes in his bonds. It looks like seeing his alpha touch someone else when he’s in such need is killing him. His poor cock is rock-hard, thrust proudly up and glistening with Prompto’s spit. The purpling head looks ready to burst, and Noctis can even see his balls twitching. His hips are so tense they’re shaking. 

Absently petting Prompto while ogling Ignis’ body, Noctis casually asks, “Did you play with his hole?”

Leaning eagerly into Noctis’ touch, Prompto guiltily answers, “Y... yeah... but it was already wet and loose...”

“I fucked him and filled him up before I left.”

“I know,” Prompto sheepishly admits. “I ate your cum out of him.”

Noctis can’t help his laugh. He makes a mental note to reward Prompto later. He was already going to fuck Prompto’s brains out, so it’ll have to be something different: a new camera or game or something. Petting Prompto more, enough that he starts purring, Noctis flicks the latch open on Ignis’ gag. The straps fall aside, the gag still caught between his teeth, but Noctis catches it as he stretches and lets it fall. Panting hard, Ignis takes a few seconds to test his jaw and breathe. Noctis waits patiently for the begging to start.

Evidently, they’ve gone too far past that. When Ignis looks up at Noctis, he barely manages to rasp, “Noct... _Please_.”

It’s enough. Smirking up a storm, Noctis pushes Ignis’ chest, and Ignis topples backwards onto the mattress. Noctis abandons Prompto to climb up between Ignis’ legs, not bothering to undo them yet. He can see how wet Ignis’ cheeks are, his puckered hole pink and open, leaking lube, cum, and spit, and it almost makes Noctis sad he missed seeing Prompto lick it out. He makes another mental note for later. In the meantime, he unfastens his belt and ponders Prompto. 

Normally, he’d just tell Prompto to go play a game or something until he was done with Ignis. But that outfit changes things. He wants to know sooner rather than later if it’s possible to fuck Prompto without taking those shorts off. Ignis’ cock is long and slender; it should work. 

As a prelude, Noctis orders: “Prompto, you’re going to be Ignis’ new gag—sit on his face and ride his tongue while I fuck him. Iggy... get Prompto’s hole nice and ready for your cock, and _maybe_ I’ll let you come.”

Ignis dizzily nods. Prompto happily chirps, “Yes, sir,” and scrambles over to obey.


End file.
